CHORUS

"Hurrah for the loud tally-ho!

Hurrah for the loud tally-ho!

It's good to support Daniel Haigh and his hounds.

And echo the shrill tally-ho!"

"Here's a health to them that can ride!

Here's a health to them that ride bold!

May the leaps and the dangers that each has defied,

In columns of sporting be told!

Here's freedom to him that would walk!

Here's freedom to him that would ride!

There's none ever feared that the horn should be heard

Who the joys of the chase ever tried."

"Hurrah for the loud tally-ho!

Hurrah for the loud tally-ho!

It's good to support Daniel Haigh and his hounds,

And halloo the loud tally-ho!"

"Beautiful! beautiful!" exclaimed Jorrocks, clapping his hands and

stamping as Crane had ceased.

"A werry good song, and it's werry well sung.

Jolly companions every one!"

"Gentlemen, pray charge your glasses--there's one toast we must drink in

a bumper if we ne'er take a bumper again. Mr. Spiers, pray charge your

glass--Mr. Stubbs, vy don't you fill up?--Mr. Nimrod, off with your 'eel

taps, pray--I'll give ye the 'Surrey 'Unt,' with all my 'art and soul.

Crane, my boy, here's your werry good health, and thanks for your song!"

(All drink the Surrey Hunt and Crane's good health, with applause, which

brings him on his legs with the following speech):

"Gentlemen, unaccustomed as I am to public speaking (laughter), I beg

leave on behalf of myself and the absent members of the Surrey 'Unt, to

return you our own most 'artfelt thanks for the flattering compliment

you have just paid us, and to assure you that the esteem and approbation

of our fellow-sportsmen is to us the magnum bonum of all earthly

'appiness (cheers and laughter). Gentlemen, I will not trespass longer

upon your valuable time, but as you seem to enjoy this wine of my friend

Mr. Jorrocks's, I may just say that I have got some more of the same

quality left, at from forty-two to forty-eight shillings a dozen, also

some good stout draught port, at ten and sixpence a gallon--some ditto

werry superior at fifteen; also foreign and British spirits, and Dutch

liqueurs, rich and rare." The conclusion of the vintner's address was

drowned in shouts of laughter. Mr. Jorrocks then called upon the company

in succession for a toast, a song, or a sentiment. Nimrod gave, "The

Royal Staghounds"; Crane gave, "Champagne to our real friends, and real

pain to our sham friends"; Green sung, "I'd be a butterfly"; Mr. Stubbs

gave, "Honest men and bonnie lasses"; and Mr. Spiers, like a patriotic

printer, gave, "The liberty of the Press," which he said was like

fox-hunting--"if we have it not we die"--all of which Mr. Jorrocks

applauded as if he had never heard them before, and drank in bumpers. It

was evident that unless tea was speedily announced he would soon become;

O'er the ills of life victorious,

for he had pocketed his wig, and had been clipping the Queen's English

for some time. After a pause, during which his cheeks twice changed

colour, from red to green and back to red, he again called for a bumper

toast, which he prefaced with the following speech, or parts of a

speech:

"Gentlemen--in rising--propose toast about to give--feel werry--feel

werry--(Yorkshireman, 'werry muzzy?') J---- feel werry--(Mr. Spiers,

'werry sick?') J---- werry--(Crane, 'werry thirsty?') J---- feel

werry --(Nimrod, 'werry wise?') J---- no; but werry sensible --great

compliment--eyes of England upon us--give you the health--Mr. Happerley

Nimrod--three times three!"

He then attempted to rise for the purpose of marking the time, but his

legs deserted his body, and after two or three lurches down he went with

a tremendous thump under the table. He called first for "Batsay," then

for "Binjimin," and, game to the last, blurted out, "Lift me up!--tie me

in my chair!--fill my glass!"

XIII. THE DAY AFTER THE FEAST:

AN EPISODE BY THE YORKSHIREMAN

On the morning after Mr. Jorrocks's "dinner party" I had occasion to go

into the city, and took Great Coram Street in my way. My heart misgave

me when I recollected Mrs. J---- and her horrid paws, but still I

thought it my duty to see how the grocer was after his fall. Arrived at

the house I rang the area bell, and Benjamin, who was cleaning knives

below, popped his head up, and seeing who it was, ran upstairs and

opened the door. His master was up, he said, but "werry bad," and his

misses was out. Leaving him to resume his knife-cleaning occupation, I

slipped quietly upstairs, and hearing a noise in the bedroom, opened the

door, and found Jorrocks sitting in his dressing-gown in an easy chair,

with Betsey patting his bald head with a damp towel.

"Do that again, Batsay! Do that again!" was the first sound I heard,

being an invitation to Betsey to continue her occupation. "Here's the

Yorkshireman, sir," said Betsey, looking around.

"Ah, Mr. York, how are you this morning?" said he, turning a pair of

eyes upon me that looked like boiled gooseberries--his countenance

indicating severe indisposition. "Set down, sir; set down--I'm werry

bad--werry bad indeed--bad go last night. Doesn't do to go to the

lush-crib this weather. How are you, eh? tell me all about it. Is Mr.

Nimrod gone?"

"Don't know," said I; "I have just come from Lancaster Street, where I

have been seeing an aunt, and thought I would take Great Coram Street in

my way to the city, to ask how you do--but where's Mrs. Jorrocks?"

_Jorrocks_. Oh, cuss Mrs. J----; I knows nothing about her--been reading

the Riot Act, and giving her red rag a holiday all the morning--wish

to God I'd never see'd her--took her for better and worser, it's werry

true; but she's a d----d deal worser than I took her for. Hope your

hat may long cover your family. Mrs. J----'s gone to the Commons to

Jenner--swears she'll have a diworce, a _mensa et thorax_, I think

she calls it--wish she may get it--sick of hearing her talk about

it--Jenner's the only man wot puts up with her, and that's because he

gets his fees. Batsay, my dear! you may damp another towel, and then

get me something to cool my coppers--all in a glow, I declare--complete

fever. You whiles go to the lush-crib, Mr. Yorkshireman; what now do you

reckon best after a regular drench?

_Yorkshireman._ Oh, nothing like a glass of soda-water with a bottom of

brandy--some people prefer a sermon, but that won't suit you or I. After

your soda and brandy take a good chivy in the open air, and you'll be

all right by dinner-time.

_Jorrocks._ Right I Bliss ye, I shall niver be right again. I can

scarce move out of my chair, I'm so bad--my head's just fit to split in

two--I'm in no state to be seen.

_Yorkshireman._ Oh, pooh!--get your soda-water and brandy, then have

some strong coffee and a red herring, and you'll be all right, and

if you'll find cash, I'll find company, and we'll go and have a lark

together.

_Jorrocks._ Couldn't really be seen out---besides, cash is werry scarce.

By the way, now that I come to think on it, I had a five-pounder in my

breeches last night. Just feel in the pocket of them 'ere nankeens, and

see that Mrs. J---- has not grabbed it to pay Jenner's fee with.

_Yorkshireman_ (feels). No--all right--here it is--No. 10,497--I promise

to pay Mr. Thos. Rippon, or bearer, on demand, five pounds! Let's demand

it, and go and spend the cash.

_Jorrocks._ No, no--put it back--or into the table-drawer, see--fives

are werry scarce with me--can't afford it--must be just before I'm

generous.

_Yorkshireman._ Well, then, J----, you must just stay at home and get

bullied by Mrs. J----, who will be back just now, I dare say, perhaps

followed by Jenner and half Doctors' Commons.

_Jorrocks_. The deuce! I forgot all that--curse Mrs. J---- and the

Commons too. Well, Mr. Yorkshireman, I don't care if I do go with

you--but where shall it be to? Some place where we can be quiet, for I

really am werry bad, and not up to nothing like a lark.

_Yorkshireman_. Suppose we take a sniff of the

briny--Margate--Ramsgate--Broadstairs?

_Jorrocks_. No, none of them places--over-well-known at 'em all--can't

be quiet--get to the lush-crib again, perhaps catch the cholera and go

to Gravesend by mistake. Let's go to the Eel Pye at Twickenham and live

upon fish.

_Yorkshireman_. Fish! you old flat. Why, you know, you'd be the first to

cry out if you had to do so. No, no--let's have no humbug--here, drink

your coffee like a man, and then hustle your purse and see what it will

produce. Why, even Betsey's laughing at the idea of your living upon

fish.

_Jorrocks_. Don't shout so, pray--your woice shoots through every nerve

of my head and distracts me (drinks). This is grand Mocho--quite the

cordial balm of Gilead--werry fine indeed. Now I feel rewived and can

listen to you.

_Yorkshireman_. Well, then, pull on your boots--gird up your loins, and

let's go and spend this five pounds--stay away as long as it lasts, in

fact.

_Jorrocks_. Well, but give me the coin--it's mine you know--and let me

be paymaster, or I know you'll soon be into dock again. That's right;

and now I have got three half-crowns besides, which I will add.

_Yorkshireman_. And I've got three pence, which, not to be behind-hand

in point of liberality, I'll do the same with, so that we have got five

pounds seven shillings and ninepence between us, according to Cocker.

_Jorrocks_. Between us, indeed! I likes that. You're a generous

churchwarden.

_Yorkshireman_. Well--we won't stand upon trifles the principle is the

thing I look to--and not the amount. So now where to, your honour?

After a long parley, we fixed upon Herne Bay. Our reasons for doing so

were numerous, though it would be superfluous to mention them, save

that the circumstance of neither of us ever having been there, and the

prospect of finding a quiet retreat for Jorrocks to recover in, were the

principal ones. Our arrangements were soon made. "Batsay," said J---- to

his principessa of a cook, slut, and butler, "the Yorkshireman and I are

going out of town to stay five pounds seven and ninepence, so put up my

traps." Two shirts (one to wash the other as he said), three pairs of

stockings, with other etceteras, were stamped into a carpet-bag, and

taking a cab, we called at the "Piazza," where I took a few things, and

away we drove to Temple Bar. "Stop here with the bags," said Jorrocks,

"while I go to the Temple Stairs and make a bargain with a Jacob

Faithful to put us on board, for if they see the bags they'll think it's

a case of necessity, and ask double; whereas I'll pretend I'm just going

a-pleasuring, and when I've made a bargain, I'll whistle, and you can

come." Away he rolled, and after the lapse of a few minutes I heard a

sort of shilling-gallery cat-call, and obeying the summons, found he had

concluded a bargain for one and sixpence. We reached St. Catherine's

Docks just as the Herne Bay boat--the _Hero_--moored alongside,

consequently were nearly the first on board.

Herne Bay being then quite in its infancy, and this being what the cits

call a "weekday," they had rather a shy cargo, nor had they any of that

cockney tomfoolery that generally characterises a Ramsgate or Margate

crew, more particularly a Margate one. Indeed, it was a very slow cargo,

Jorrocks being the only character on board, and he was as sulky as a

bear with a sore head when anyone approached. The day was beautifully

fine, and a thin grey mist gradually disappeared from the Kentish hills

as we passed down the Thames. The river was gay enough. Adelaide, Queen

of Great Britain and Ireland, was expected on her return from Germany,

and all the vessels hung out their best and gayest flags and colours to

do her honour. The towns of Greenwich and Woolwich were in commotion.

Charity schools were marching, and soldiers were doing the like, while

steamboats went puffing down the river with cargoes to meet and escort

Her Majesty. When we got near Tilbury Fort, a man at the head of the

steamer announced that we should meet the Queen in ten minutes, and all

the passengers crowded on to the paddle-box of the side on which she

was to pass, to view and greet her. Jorrocks even roused himself up

and joined the throng. Presently a crowd of steamers were seen in the

distance, proceeding up the river at a rapid pace, with a couple of

lofty-masted vessels in tow, the first of which contained the royal

cargo. The leading steamboat was the celebrated _Magnet_--considered

the fastest boat on the river, and the one in which Jorrocks and myself

steamed from Margate, racing against and beating the _Royal William._

This had the Lord Mayor and Aldermen on board, who had gone down to the

extent of the city jurisdiction to meet the Queen, and have an excuse

for a good dinner. The deck presented a gay scene, being covered with a

military band, and the gaudy-liveried lackeys belonging to the Mansion

House, and sheriffs whose clothes were one continuous mass of gold lace

and frippery, shining beautifully brilliant in the midday sun. The royal

yacht, with its crimson and gold pennant floating on the breeze, came

towering up at a rapid pace, with the Queen sitting under a canopy on

deck. As we neared, all hats were off, and three cheers--or at least as

many as we could wedge in during the time the cortège took to sweep past

us--were given, our band consisting of three brandy-faced musicians,

striking up _God save the King_--a compliment which Her Majesty

acknowledged by a little mandarining; and before the majority of the

passengers had recovered from the astonishment produced by meeting a

live Queen on the Thames, the whole fleet had shot out of sight. By the

time the ripple on the water, raised by their progress, had subsided,

we had all relapsed into our former state of apathy and sullenness. A

duller or staider set I never saw outside a Quakers' meeting. Still the

beggars eat, as when does a cockney not in the open air? The stewards of

these steamboats must make a rare thing of their places, for they have

plenty of custom at their own prices. In fact, being in a steamboat is a

species of personal incarceration, and you have only the option between

bringing your own prog, or taking theirs at whatever they choose to

charge--unless, indeed, a person prefers going without any. Jorrocks

took nothing. He laid down again after the Queen had passed, and never

looked up until we were a mile or two off Herne Bay.

With the reader's permission, we will suppose that we have just landed,

and, bags in hand, ascended the flight of steps that conduct passengers,

as it were, from the briny ocean on to the stage of life.

"My eyes!" said Jorrocks, as he reached the top, "wot a pier, and wot

a bit of a place! Why, there don't seem to be fifty houses altogether,

reckoning the windmill in the centre as one. What's this thing?" said

he to a ticket-porter, pointing to a sort of French diligence-looking

concern which had just been pushed up to the landing end. "To carry the

lumber, sir--live and dead--gentlemen and their bags, as don't like to

walk." "Do you charge anything for the ride?" inquired Jorrocks, with

his customary caution. "Nothing," was the answer. "Then, let's get on

the roof," said J----, "and take it easy, and survey the place as we go

along." So, accordingly, we clambered on to the top of the diligence,

"summâ diligentiâ," and seated ourselves on a pile of luggage; being all

stowed away, and as many passengers as it would hold put inside, two

or three porters proceeded to propel the machine along the railroad on

which it runs. "Now, Mr. Yorkshireman," said Jorrocks, "we are in a

strange land, and it behoves us to proceed with caution, or we may spend

our five pounds seven and sixpence before we know where we are."

_Yorkshireman_. Seven and ninepence it is, sir.

_Jorrocks_. Well, be it so--five pounds seven and ninepence between two,

is by no means an impossible sum to spend, and the trick is to make

it go as far as we can. Now some men can make one guinea go as far as

others can make two, and we will try what we can do. In the first place,

you know I makes it a rule never to darken the door of a place wot calls

itself an 'otel, for 'otel prices and inn prices are werry different.

You young chaps don't consider these things, and as long as you have

got a rap in the world you go swaggering about, ordering claret and

waxlights, and everything wot's expensive, as though you must spend

money because you are in an inn. Now, that's all gammon. If a man

haven't got money he can't spend it; and we all know that many poor

folks are obliged at times to go to houses of public entertainment,

and you don't suppose that they pay for fire and waxlights, private

sitting-rooms, and all them 'ere sort of things. Now, said he, adjusting

his hunting telescope and raking the town of Herne Bay, towards which we

were gently approaching on our dignified eminence, but as yet had not

got near enough to descry "what was what" with the naked eye, I should

say yon great staring-looking shop directly opposite us is the cock inn

of the place (looks through his glass). I'm right P-i-e-r, Pier 'Otel I

reads upon the top, and that's no shop for my money. Let's see what else

we have. There's nothing on the right, I think, but here on the left is

something like our cut--D-o-l dol, p-h-i-n phin, Dolphin Inn. It's long

since I went the circuit, as the commercial gentlemen (or what were

called bagmen in my days) term it, but I haven't forgot the experience I

gained in my travels, and I whiles turn it to werry good account now.

"Coach to Canterbury, Deal, Margate, sir, going directly," interrupted

him, and reminded us that we had got to the end of the pier, and ought

to be descending. Two or three coaches were drawn up, waiting to carry

passengers on, but we had got to our journey's end. "Now," said J----,

"let's take our bags in hand and draw up wind, trying the 'Dolphin'

first."

Rejecting the noble portals of the Pier Hotel, we advanced towards

Jorrocks's chosen house, a plain unpretending-looking place facing the

sea, which is half the battle, and being but just finished had every

chance of cleanliness. "Jonathan Acres" appeared above the door as the

name of the landlord, and a little square-built, hatless, short-haired

chap, in a shooting-jacket, was leaning against the door. "Mr.

Hacres within?" said Jorrocks. "My name's Acres," said he of the

shooting-jacket. "Humph," said J----, looking him over, "not Long Acre,

I think." Having selected a couple of good airy bedrooms, we proceeded

to see about dinner. "Mr. Hacres," said Jorrocks, "I makes it a rule

never to pay more than two and sixpence for a feed, so now just give

us as good a one as you possibly can for that money": and about seven

o'clock we sat down to lamb-chops, ducks, French beans, pudding, etc.;

shortly after which Jorrocks retired to rest, to sleep off the remainder

of his headache. He was up long before me the next morning, and had a

dip in the sea before I came down. "Upon my word," said he, as I entered

the room, and found him looking as lively and fresh as a four-year-old,

"it's worth while going to the lush-crib occasionally, if it's only for

the pleasure of feeling so hearty and fresh as one does on the second

day. I feel just as if I could jump out of my skin, but I will defer the

performance until after breakfast. I have ordered a fork one, do you

know, cold 'am and boiled bacon, with no end of eggs, and bread of every

possible description. By the way, I've scraped acquaintance with Thorp,

the baker hard by, who's a right good fellow, and says he will give me

some shooting, and has some werry nice beagles wot he shoots to. But

here's the grub. Cold 'am in abundance. But, waiter, you should put a

little green garnishing to the dishes, I likes to see it, green is so

werry refreshing to the eye; and tell Mr. Hacres to send up some more

bacon and the bill, when I rings the bell. Nothing like having your bill

the first morning, and then you know what you've got to pay, and can cut

your coat according to your cloth." The bacon soon disappeared, and the

bell being sounded, produced the order.

"Humph," said J----, casting his eyes over the bill as it lay by the

side of his plate, while he kept pegging away at the contents of the

neighbouring dish--"pretty reasonable, I think--dinners, five shillings,

that's half a crown each; beds, two shillings each; breakfasts, one and

ninepence each, that's cheap for a fork breakfast; but, I say, you had

a pint of sherry after I left you last night, and PALE sherry too! How

could you be such an egreggorus (egregious) ass! That's so like you

young chaps, not to know that the only difference between pale and brown

sherry is, that one has more of the pumpaganus aqua in it than the

other. You should have made it pale yourself, man. But look there. Wot a

go!"

Our attention was attracted to a youth in spectacles, dressed in a rich

plum-coloured coat, on the outside of a dingy-looking, big-headed, brown

nag, which he was flogging and cramming along the public walk in

front of the "Dolphin," in the most original and ludicrous manner. We

presently recognised him as one of our fellow-passengers of the previous

day, respecting whom Jorrocks and I had had a dispute as to whether he

was a Frenchman or a German. His equestrian performances decided the

point. I never in all my life witnessed such an exhibition, nor one in

which the performer evinced such self-complacency. Whether he had ever

been on horseback before or not I can't tell, but the way in which he

went to work, using the bridle as a sort of rattle to frighten the horse

forward, the way in which he shook the reins, threw his arms about, and

belaboured the poor devil of an animal in order to get him into a canter

(the horse of course turning away every time he saw the blow coming),

and the free, unrestrained liberty he gave to his head, surpassed

everything of the sort I ever saw, and considerably endangered the lives

of several of His Majesty's lieges that happened to be passing.

Instead of getting out of their way, Frenchmanlike, he seemed to think

everything should give way to an equestrian; and I saw him scatter a

party of ladies like a covey of partridges, by riding slap amongst them,

and not even making the slightest apology or obeisance for the rudeness.

There he kept, cantering (or cantering as much as he could induce the

poor rip to do) from one end of the town to the other, conceiving, I

make not the slightest doubt, that he was looked upon with eyes of

admiration by the beholders. He soon created no little sensation, and

before he was done a crowd had collected near the Pier Hotel, to see him

get his horse past (it being a Pier Hotel nag) each time; and I heard

a primitive sort of postman, who was delivering the few letters that

arrive in the place, out of a fish-basket, declare "that he would sooner

kill a horse than lend it to such a chap." Having fretted his hour away,

the owner claimed the horse, and Monsieur was dismounted.

After surveying the back of the town, we found ourselves rambling in

some beautiful picturesque fields in the rear. Kent is a beautiful

county, and the trimly kept gardens, and the clustering vines twining

around the neatly thatched cottages, remind one of the rich, luxuriant

soil and climate of the South. Forgetting that we were in search of sea

breezes, we continued to saunter on, across one field, over one stile

and then over another, until after passing by the side of a snug-looking

old-fashioned house, with a beautifully kept garden, the road took a

sudden turn and brought us to some parkish-looking well-timbered ground

in front, at one side of which Jorrocks saw something that he swore was

a kennel.

"I knows a hawk from a hand-saw," said he, "let me alone for that. I'll

swear there are hounds in it. Bless your heart, don't I see a gilt fox

on one end, and a gilt hare on the other?"

Just then came up a man in a round fustian jacket, to whom Jorrocks

addressed himself, and, as good luck would have it, he turned out to be

the huntsman (for Jorrocks was right about the kennel), and away we went

to look at the hounds. They proved to be Mr. Collard's, the owner of

the house that we had just passed, and were really a very nice pack of

harriers, consisting of seventeen or eighteen couple, kept in better

style (as far as kennel appearance goes) than three-fourths of the

harriers in England. Bird, the huntsman, our cicerone, seemed a regular

keen one in hunting matters, and Jorrocks and he had a long confab about

the "noble art of hunting," though the former was rather mortified to

find on announcing himself as the "celebrated Mr. Jorrocks" that Bird

had never heard of him before.

After leaving the kennel we struck across a few fields, and soon found

ourselves on the sea banks, along which we proceeded at the rate of

about two miles an hour, until we came to the old church of Reculvers.

Hard by is a public-house, the sign of the "Two Sisters," where, having

each taken a couple of glasses of ale, we proceeded to enjoy one of the

(to me at least) greatest luxuries in life--viz. that of lying on the

shingle of the beach with my heels just at the water's edge.

The day was intensely hot, and after occupying this position for about

half an hour, and finding the "perpendicular rays of the sun" rather

fiercer than agreeable, we followed the example of a flock of sheep, and

availed ourselves of the shade afforded by the Reculvers. Here for a

short distance along the beach, on both sides, are small breakwaters,

and immediately below the Reculvers is one formed of stake and matting,

capable of holding two persons sofa fashion. Into this Jorrocks and

I crept, the tide being at that particular point that enabled us to

repose, with the water lashing our cradle on both sides, without dashing

high enough to wet us.

"Oh, but this is fine!" said J----, dangling his arm over the side, and

letting the sea wash against his hand. "I declare it comes fizzing up

just like soda-water out of a bottle--reminds me of the lush-crib. By

the way, Mr. Yorkshireman, I heard some chaps in our inn this morning

talking about this werry place, and one of them said that there used

to be a Roman station, or something of that sort, at it. Did you know

anything of them 'ere ancient Romans? Luxterous dogs, I understand.

If Mr. Nimrod was here now he could tell us all about them, for, if I

mistake not, he was werry intimate with some of them--either he or his

father, at least."

A boat that had been gradually advancing towards us now run on shore,

close by where we were lying, and one of the crew landed with a jug to

get some beer. A large basket at the end attracted Jorrocks's attention,

and, doglike, he got up and began to hover about and inquire about their

destination of the remaining crew, four in number. They were a cockney

party of pleasure, it seemed, going to fish, for which purpose they had

hired the boat, and laid in no end of bait for the fish, and prog for

themselves. Jorrocks, though no great fisherman (not having, as he says,

patience enough), is never at a loss if there is plenty of eating; and

finding that they had got a great chicken pie, two tongues, and a tart,

agreed to pay for the boat if they would let us in upon equal terms with

themselves as to the provender, which was agreed to without a debate.

The messenger having returned with a gallon of ale, we embarked, and

away we slid through the "glad waters of the dark blue sea." It was

beautifully calm, scarcely a breeze appearing on the surface. After

rowing for about an hour, one of the boatmen began to adjust the lines

and bait the hooks; and having got into what he esteemed a favourite

spot, he cast anchor and prepared for the sport. Each man was prepared

with a long strong cord line, with a couple of hooks fastened to the

ends of about a foot of whalebone, with a small leaden plummet in the

centre. The hooks were baited with sandworms, and the instructions given

were, after sounding the depth, to raise the hooks a little from the

bottom, so as to let them hang conveniently for the fish to swallow.

Great was the excitement as we dropped the lines overboard, as to who

should catch the first whale. Jorrocks and myself having taken the

fishermen's lines from them, we all met upon pretty equal terms, much

like gentlemen jockeys in a race. A dead silence ensued. "I have one!"

cried the youngest of our new friends. "Then pull him up," responded one

of the boatmen, "gently, or you'll lose him." "And so I have, by God!

he's gone." "Well, never mind," said the boatmen, "let's see your

bait--aye, he's got that, too. We'll put some fresh on--there you are

again--all right. Now drop it gently, and when you find you've hooked

him, wind the line quickly, but quietly, and be sure you don't jerk

the hook out of his mouth at starting." "I've got one!" cries

Jorrocks--"I've got one--now, my wig, if I can but land him. I have him,

certainly--by Jove! he's a wopper, too, judging by the way he kicks. Oh,

but it's no use, sir--come along--come along--here he is--doublets, by

crikey--two, huzza! huzza! What fine ones!--young haddocks or codlings,

I should call them--werry nice eating, I dare say--I'm blow'd if this

arn't sport." "I have one," cries our young friend again. "So have I,"

shouts another; and just at the same moment I felt the magic touch of

my bait, and in an instant I felt the thrilling stroke. The fish were

absolutely voracious, and we had nothing short of a miraculous draught.

As fast as we could bait they swallowed, and we frequently pulled them

up two at a time. Jorrocks was in ecstasies. "It was the finest sport he

had ever encountered," and he kept halloaing and shouting every time

he pulled them up, as though he were out with the Surrey. Having just

hooked a second couple, he baited again and dropped his line. Two of our

new friends had hooked fish at the same instant, and, in their eagerness

to take them, overbalanced the boat, and Jorrocks, who was leaning over,

went head foremost down into the deeps!

* * * * *

A terrible surprise came over us, and for a second or two we were so

perfectly thunderstruck as to be incapable of rendering any assistance.

A great splash, followed by a slight gurgling sound, as the water

bubbled and subsided o'er the place where he went down, was all that

denoted the exit of our friend. After a considerable dive he rose to the

surface, minus his hat and wig, but speedily disappeared. The anchor

was weighed, oars put out, and the boat rowed to the spot where he last

appeared. He rose a third time, but out of arms' reach, apparently

lifeless, and just as he was sinking, most probably for ever, one of the

men contrived to slip the end of an oar under his arm, and support him

on the water until he got within reach from the boat.

The consternation when we got him on board was tremendous! Consisting,

as we did, of two parties, neither knowing where the other had come

from, we remained in a state of stupefied horror, indecision, and

amazement for some minutes. The poor old man lay extended in the bottom

of the boat, apparently lifeless, and even if the vital spark had not

fled, there seemed no chance of reaching Herne Bay, whose pier, just

then gilded by the rich golden rays of the setting sun, appeared in

the far distance of the horizon. Where to row to was the question. No

habitation where effective succour could be procured appeared on the

shore, and to proceed without a certain destination was fruitless.

How helpless such a period as this makes a man feel! "Let's make for

Grace's," at length exclaimed one of the boatmen, and the other catching

at the proposition, the head of the boat was whipped round in an

instant, and away we sped through the glassy-surfaced water. Not a word

broke upon the sound of the splashing oars until, nearing the shore, one

of the men, looking round, directed us to steer a little to the right,

in the direction of a sort of dell or land-break, peculiar to the Isle

of Thanet; and presently we ran the head of the boat upon the shingle,

just where a small rivulet that, descending from the higher grounds,

waters the thickly wooded ravine, and discharges itself into the sea.

The entrance of this dell is formed by a lofty precipitous rock, with a

few stunted overhanging trees on one side, while the other is more open

and softened in its aspect, and though steep and narrow at the mouth,

gently slopes away into a brushwood-covered bank, which, stretching up

the little valley, becomes lost in a forest of lofty oaks that close the

inland prospect of the place. Here, to the left (just after one gets

clear of the steeper part), commanding a view of the sea, and yet almost

concealed from the eye of a careless traveller, was a lonely hut (the

back wall formed by an excavation of the sandy rock) and the rest of

clay, supporting a wooden roof, made of the hull of a castaway wreck,

the abode of an old woman, called Grace Ganderne, well known throughout

the whole Isle of Thanet as a poor harmless secluded widow, who

subsisted partly on the charity of her neighbours, and partly on what

she could glean from the smugglers, for the assistance she affords them

in running their goods on that coast; and though she had been at work

for forty years, she had never had the misfortune to be detected in the

act, notwithstanding the many puncheons of spirits and many bales of

goods fished out of the dark woods near her domicile.

To this spot it was, just as the "setting sun's pathetic light" had been

succeeded by the grey twilight of the evening, that we bore the body

of our unfortunate companion. The door was closed, but Grace being

accustomed to nocturnal visitors, speedily answered the first summons

and presented herself. She was evidently of immense age, being nearly

bowed double, and her figure, with her silvery hair, confined by a blue

checked cotton handkerchief, and palsied hand, as tremblingly she rested

upon her staff and eyed the group, would have made a subject worthy of

the pencil of a Landseer. She was wrapped in an old red cloak, with

a large hood, and in her ears she wore a pair of long gold-dropped

earrings, similar to what one sees among the Norman peasantry--the gift,

as I afterwards learned, of a drowned lover. After scrutinising us for a

second or two, during which time a large black cat kept walking to and

fro, purring and rubbing itself against her, she held back the door

and beckoned us to enter. The little place was cleanly swept up, and

a faggot and some dry brushwood, which she had just lighted for

the purpose of boiling her kettle, threw a gleam of light over the

apartment, alike her bedchamber, parlour, and kitchen. Her curtainless

bed at the side, covered with a coarse brown counterpane, was speedily

prepared for our friend, into which being laid, our new acquaintances

were dispatched in search of doctors, while the boatman and myself,

under the direction of old Grace, applied ourselves to procuring such

restoratives as her humble dwelling afforded.

"Let Grace alone," said the younger of the boatmen, seeing my affliction

at the lamentable catastrophe, "if there be but a spark of life in the

gentleman, she'll bring him round--many's the drowning man--aye, and

wounded one, too--that's been brought in here during the stormy nights,

and after fights with the coast-guard--that she's recovered."

Hot bottles, and hot flannels, and hot bricks were all applied, but in

vain; and when I saw hot brandy, too, fail of having the desired effect,

I gave my friend up as lost, and left the hut to vent my grief in the

open air. Grace was more sanguine and persevering, and when I returned,

after a half-hour's absence, I could distinctly feel a returning pulse.

Still, he gave no symptoms of animation, and it might only be the effect

produced by the applications--as he remained in the same state for

several hours. Fresh wood was added to the fire, and the boatmen having

returned to their vessel, Grace and I proceeded to keep watch during

the night, or until the arrival of a doctor. The poor old body, to whom

scenes such as this were matter of frequent occurrence, seemed to think

nothing of it, and proceeded to relate some of the wonderful escapes and

recoveries she had witnessed, in the course of which she dropped many

a sigh to the memory of some of her friends--the bold smugglers. There

were no such "braw lads" now as formerly, she said, and were it not that

"she was past eighty, and might as weel die in one place as anither,

she wad gang back to the bonny blue hulls (hills) of her ain canny

Scotland."

In the middle of one of her long stories I thought I perceived a

movement of the bedclothes, and, going to look, I found a considerable

increase in the quickness of pulsation, and also a generous sort of glow

upon the skin. "An' ded I no tell ye I wad recover him?" said she, with

a triumphant look. "Afore twa mair hours are o'er he'll spak to ye." "I

hope so, I'm sure," said I, still almost doubting her. "Oh, trust to

me," said she, "he'll come about--I've seen mony a chiel in a mickle

worse state nor him recovered. Pray, is the ould gintleman your father

or your grandfather?"

_Yorkshireman._ Why, I can't say that he's either exactly--but he's

always been as good as a grandmother to me, I know.

Grace was right. About three o'clock in the morning a sort of revulsion

of nature took place, and after having lain insensible, and to all

appearance lifeless, all that time, he suddenly began to move. Casting

his eye wildly around, he seemed lost in amazement. He muttered

something, but what it was I could not catch.

"Lush-crib again, by Jove!" were the first words he articulated, and

then, appearing to recollect himself, he added, "Oh, I forgot, I'm

drowned--well drowned, too--can't be help'd, however--wasn't born to be

hanged--and that seems clear." Thus he kept muttering and mumbling for

an hour, until old Grace thinking him so far recovered as to remove all

danger from sudden surprise, allowed me to take her seat at the bedside.

He looked at me long and intensely, but the light was not sufficiently

strong to enable him to make out who I was.

"Jorrocks!" at length said I, taking him by the hand, "how are you, my

old boy?" He started at the sound of his name. "Jorrocks," said he,

"who's that?" "Why, the Yorkshireman; you surely have not forgotten your

old friend and companion in a hundred fights!"

_Jorrocks._ Oh, Mr. York, it's you, is it? Much obliged by your

inquiries, but I'm drowned.

_Yorkshireman._ Aye, but you are coming round, you'll be better before

long.

_Jorrocks._ Never! Don't try to gammon me. You know as well as I do that

I'm drowned, and a drowned man never recovers. No, no, it's all up with

me, I feel. Set down, however, while I say a few words to you. You're a

good fellow, and I've remembered you in my will, which you'll find in

the strong port-wine-bin, along with nine pounds secret service money.

I hopes you'll think the legacy a fat one. I meant it as such. If you

marry Belinda, I have left you a third of my fourth in the tea trade.

Always said you were cut out for a grocer. Let Tat sell my stud. An

excellent man, Tat--proudish perhaps--at least, he never inwites me to

none of his dinners--but still a werry good man. Let him sell them, I

say, and mind give Snapdragon a charge or two of shot before he goes

to the 'ammer, to prevent his roaring. Put up a plain monument to my

memory--black or white marble, whichever's cheapest--but mind, no Cupids

or seraphums, or none of those sort of things--quite plain--with just

this upon it--_Hic jacet Jorrocks._ And now I'll give you a bit of news.

Neptune has appointed me huntsman to his pack of haddocks. Have two

dolphins for my own riding, and a young lobster to look after them.

Lord Farebrother whips in to me--he rides a turtle. "And now, my good

friend," said he, grasping my hands with redoubled energy, "do you think

you could accomplish me a rump-steak and oyster sauce?--also a pot of

stout?--but, mind, blow the froth off the top, for it's bad for the

kidneys!"